


The City Of Love

by aaa_mazing



Category: QAF US
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 08:36:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aaa_mazing/pseuds/aaa_mazing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 14th of February Kinney-style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The City Of Love

“Hey.”

 

“Hey.”

 

They fell silent. But this silence was not a burden. It was comfortable and habitual. Somehow soothing. They didn’t need words. With those two, silence was more eloquent sometimes. They could read each other even over the phone. Years of practice. They were listening to each other breathing, savoring the quiet.

 

“How was your day, Sunshine?”

 

“Pretty much the same.”

 

“Tired?”

 

“A little. It was a long week.”

 

“Finished the order?”

 

“I’m trying to. I hate painting on demand.”

 

“I know.”

 

Silence. They didn’t breathe a word for minutes. Not that they didn’t have anything to say.  It was just… It was  Friday. And tomorrow’d be Saturday. And after that Sunday. And they wouldn’t see each other on the weekend. As they didn’t the week before.

 

Last time Justin visited Pittsburgh was seven weeks ago, for Christmas. Brian had gone to New York three weeks ago. But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

 

Brian was the first to break the silence. “Any plans for the weekend?”

 

“Wanted to finish ‘The Desperate’.”

 

“Your works have strange names. Art imitating life again?”

 

“That’s how I feel, you know.”

 

Void. Brian knew.

 

“Justin…”

 

“What?”

 

“You think you can get it done by tomorrow?”

 

“Don’t know. Can try. Why?”

 

“I wanted to go somewhere for Sunday.”

 

“Where?”  Justin could only hope to hear ‘New York’ in response. He also knew there was no chance of that happening; the idea alone was crazy. Brian would never come for one day.

 

“Italy.”

 

“Italy?”

 

“Yeah. Discounts for winter collections, and shit like that.”

 

“For one single day?”

 

“Uh-huh. I have a meeting tomorrow morning. I told you, Brown Athletics wanted to extend the contract. Then I’m free.”

 

“You are a freak, Bri! But yes, I’ll finish it tomorrow.”

 

“Okay then. I’ll be at your place at 9PM.”

 

“I’ll be waiting.”

 

Pause.

 

“Justin…”

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“I miss you too, Brian.”

 

“Later.”

 

“Later.”

 

They hang up simultaneously.

 

>>><<< 

 

Justin’s POV

 

I hang up and pressed the cell phone against my lips. The invincible vulnerable Brian.

 

Italy? That was weird. We often went abroad for holidays but usually they were hot beaches for hot sex. But Italy? In winter? For one single day? I knew how much Brian hated to rush.

 

I sighed. Even now, almost seven years later, the man was a mystery. Being a man of habit he was totally unpredictable sometimes. I guess that was why I was still falling for him. More and more. Again and again.

 

Whatever. Italy or Antarctica, it would be a day with Brian. I decided to look through my schedule once again to make sure I wouldn’t miss anything important on Sunday. I opened my organizer and froze. It was the 12th today which meant Sunday would be the 14th. The 14th of February. St. fucking Valentine’s Day!

 

I shook my head. Come on , Justin! Certainly, this was just a coincidence. I doubted Brian knew about Valentine’s Day at all. Anyway, it meant nothing. I knew what I meant to him. He didn’t need to tell me about it. Actually, he never could. But there were things I knew without words. Because I knew Brian. Well, I thought I knew him.

 

I turned on the lights in my studio. I had to hurry if I wanted to be done tomorrow.

 

>>><<< 

 

Brian’s POV

 

What? There really were considerable discounts on winter collections this time of year. And I really just wanted to take him to Italy. Even if for one day only.

 

I wanted to show him the world. His whole world had always been spinning around me. Who could blame him - I was Brian Fucking Kinney, for Christ's sake. But I didn’t want to be the center of his universe anymore. I wanted to be a part of it.

 

I never said it to anyone, not even to him (why should I), but I was glad he had left for New York. Even if I wouldn’t particularly mind him being around. I knew he had outgrown the Pitts. The town had become too cramped for him.

 

The date though? Consider it a ludicrous coincidence.

 

>>><<< 

 

Justin’s POV

 

He arrived at 9.30PM. He swept past me on his way in, threw the suitcase and the coat on the sofa, turned to me, his arms spread wide, and smiled, “Come here.”

 

I rushed to him, his mouth attacked mine, his tongue found its way home. I pulled myself closer led by the desire to dissolve in the man. Being a one whole with this man was the most natural thing for me. Always had been; always would be.

 

Brian pushed me away, “We have little time, Sunshine. Are you ready? Packed warm clothes? I don’t want to fuck you while you’re all runny and coughing.”

 

“Uh-huh.” I replied breathlessly.

 

“I need a quick shower.” He said, unbuttoning his shirt. On his way to the bathroom he half turned, and teased, “Want to join?”

 

Did I? I jumped out of my pants on the fly, unable to articulate any intelligible answer.

 

>>><<< 

 

Brian’s POV

 

“Venice? We are going to Venice?” He shrieked, making the whole airport turn their heads.

 

“Didn’t I tell you?”

 

“You said Italy.”

 

“Venice is in Italy, twat!”

 

It was so easy to surprise him. To make him happy. It seemed I was looking into the dilated orbs of a seven-year-old who got his first bicycle for Christmas. Maybe, just maybe, I should have done this more often.

 

“I love you, love you, love you!” He rained small kisses all over my face.

 

“Fuck off! Do you want them to get the vice squad on us?”

 

He smiled sheepishly, and exhaled dreamily, “Venice.”

 

That was Justin. He was still looking at the world around him through the eyes of an easily to impress child. He hasn’t changed much. He was open to new impressions, he absorbed life in all detail, savored it with wide opened eyes. He met life with his high-voltage Sunshine smile. He was life himself.

 

>>><<< 

 

They arrived at the Marco Polo International Airport early in the morning. Winterly Venice met them with heavy lead clouds, thick milky fog, and a pale sun.

 

They stepped on board the water taxi which was to take them to the hotel. The deck was packed. The famous Carnival of Venice was in full swing, and thousands of tourists flooded the city to enjoy the festivities.

 

The crowd pressed them to the rails; moist chill crawled under the clothes, piercing to the very backbone. But Justin didn’t mind it at all. He felt warm and safe in Brian’s protective embrace. The brunet enveloped the boy from behind, kissed his temple, put the chin on Justin’s shoulder, and whispered, “Next time it will be Puerto Vallarta”. Justin didn’t turn his head, staring at the Grand Canal, the old buildings hanging over it, the whaleback bridges over the dark water, the rough paved embankment.

 

Justin couldn’t believe his eyes. Venice! The city of canals, carnivals, art, and love.

 

Brian had to acknowledge that Justin looked adorable when he was that excited. The brunet tilted his head studying the boy in his arms. It was illegal to look so young; that smile had to be banned in public places.

 

 The man sighed. Seeing the blond’s excitement he realized that Venice and Brian Kinney would have to fight for Justin’s attention.

 

>>><<< 

 

Justin’s POV

 

Italy is a lifetime dream of every artist. It’s a land of inspiration, a treasure chamber of the world’s most outstanding works of fine arts.

 

And Venice… Venice is this dream come true. Not only the dozens of museums and galleries but the city itself. The time-eaten, medieval palaces, gloomy gothic cathedrals, and funny rickety houses along the numberless canals. The city absorbed time and was dissolved in it.

 

I was disappointed when we finally arrived at our hotel. I didn’t have the slightest wish to leave the snug warmth of Brian’s hold and the beauty around us. I could spend my entire life in those arms and that city.

 

Brian helped me out of the water bus, adjusted my scarf, and led me to the hotel. It was an old two-storied building with a street café in front of it.

 

The woman at the reception desk gave Brian the keys, an envelope, and the most tempting smile. Another victim of the Kinney charm! I smiled as her eyes almost popped out when I came closer to Brian, touched his elbow, and said in a pitch higher than my usual, “Let’s go, honey.” He laughed. It was him who years ago taught me to be proud of the ‘disgusting lifestyle’. And I had learned from the master. Besides, I would never miss the opportunity to show the world that this God-like man was mine.

 

The room turned out to be not large but homey. Brian knew I hated hotels. We had spent almost every weekend of my first year in New York in hotels. Luxurious, but impersonal, faceless, cloned rooms.

 

Brian hung up his coat, mine followed. He uttered, “Shower.” But right before walked in the direction of the bathroom, he held out the envelope to me. “In case you’d like to…” I opened it. There were two tickets to the Accademia art gallery. The Accademia! The Mecca for artists! The home for Titian, Carpaccio, da Vinci. I could hardly catch my breath.

 

I looked up at Brian. He was busy studying the ornament of the wallpaper. I knew he was embarrassed. The man, who would get a blowjob on the dance floor of Babylon, or fuck a trick in the face of dozens, was embarrassed to invite his partner to a museum. This man never ceased to amaze me. Though I knew it would be a mistake to let him in on my thoughts, I couldn’t help myself. He answered that the pathetic effort to tell him how amazing he was was nice but useless, because he had already been aware of his uniqueness. And then he kissed me. And undressed me. And pushed me into the shower. And I had nothing to do but surrender.

 

>>><<< 

 

Brian’s POV

 

The shower sex was a little compensation for the upcoming torture. The museum, or the gallery, or whatthefuckever was going to be one of the most trying experiences of my life. I could bet my ass we’d spend hours there, just walking from picture to picture. ‘Oh, Bri, look here! Oh, dear, look there!’ But it was better than to listen to him whining in boutiques. And if that would make him happy, I could abide. He was still just a kid. He worked a lot. He deserved the rest.

 

>>><<< 

 

“Can you believe it? We saw da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man!” Justin sounded agitated.

 

‘Big deal!’ Brian thought. As if they’d seen an alien in their closet.

 

“I still don’t see why they call him the Canon of Proportions. I know at least one body more faultlessly perfect.” The brunet said matter-of-factly.

 

“Mine?” Justin wondered mockingly.

 

“Mine!” The man replied in a voice impatient of contradiction. Then slapped the perfectly shaped bubble butt and added, “Though yours is okay.”

 

 All the while Justin was rattling non-stop, only pausing to get his lungs full of air and go on. ‘Yes, it was great’, ‘Yes, Titian was incredible’, ‘Yes, we’d come here in summer’ were the only phrases Brian managed to insert into the passionate monologue of the artist, though he suspected the questions were rhetoric anyway.

 

The man suddenly stopped walking, turned the boy to face him, and leaned in for a kiss. A long wet Kinney kiss. Who would know better than Brian the only infallible way to shut up Justin?

 

“Dinner, Sunshine.” The brunet said abandoning the ruby lips.

 

It was when they arrived at the Caffe Florian, and were shown to the reserved table for two that Justin realized the trip was not an on-the-spot decision. It was not spontaneous; Brian premeditated it. That thought made the blond feel like floating in zero gravity. In the vacuum where there was nothing but him and the man he loved.

 

Justin covered Brian’s hand with his palm. The man raised his brow in question, gave his brand tongue in cheek grin. “Stop staring at me, Justin. I’m not a Titian. Though, let’s admit it, equally perfect. Choose already.” He pushed the leather-covered menu towards the blond.

 

They ordered a traditional crostini appetizer, tagliatelli noodles with grilled rockfish, and freshly baked bread. The cuisine was delicious. So was the home-made Italian red wine. They enjoyed the dinner and each other’s company in silence.

 

>>><<< 

 

Justin’s POV

 

Of all our days together, this was one of the most marvelous. Everything was so like Brian. And not Brian at the same time.

 

We came back to the hotel after hours of walking around the city. Just walking along the narrow winding streets hand in hand, kissing and making out like teenagers on the bank.

 

We took a shower and packed little souvenirs we bought in numerous gift shops. We still had six hours till our flight.

 

I was sitting on the bed watching naked Brian walking to and fro. He was talking to Cynthia on his cell phone. All I understood was that this ‘fucking ad genius got Brown Athletics’ balls for another three years’. As if somebody doubted he was a genius.

 

Brian disconnected the call and came closer. I noticed something in his hand. He stretched out his arm and opened the palm. I saw two masks, golden and silver embroidery on black silk, but without slits for the eyes. He saw the question in my glance. ‘It’s a Carnival. You may regret not trying on a mask.’

 

We did use blindfolds sometimes. But both of us? It would be the first time. I stood on my knees facing Brian, took the item, and covered his eyes with it. He touched my face with his cool fingers, and adjusted the other one on me.

 

Brian kneeled on the bed as well; our bodies touched, thigh to thigh, chest to chest.  And then there only were hands flying over skin, lips brushing whatever they met in their way up and down our bodies.

 

I didn’t need to see Brian. I could easily find him in a crowd of millions of people, by his scent only. His body oozed testosterone and this special scent purely Brian. I knew every inch of his sculpted body, his every muscle and birthmark.

 

His mouth found my lips, neck, shoulders. He pushed me on my back. His body covered mine; the velvet of his skin mantled me like the lightest veil. He rubbed his leaking cock against mine. The move dissolved my last bond with reality.

 

I grabbed his shoulders, pushed him, and we rolled over, now with me on top. I pinned Brian’s wrists to the pillows, ready to fight for dominance. But there was no fight. His legs parted inviting me in between. I felt for a condom and lube on the bedside table. I started preparing him when he exhaled, ‘Don’t. Just go’. I was afraid to come the very moment I entered him. It was a heady challenge to last long enough as the thought that I possessed this perfect body, that this beautiful man belonged to me, plunged me into insanity.  

 

But it was our longest round of love-making. The concepts of time and space vanished. The only things existing in the universe were that tiny room, me and the man I loved.

 

>>><<< 

 

Brian was lying flat on his back, with Justin half on top of him; the blond’s head was resting on the broad chest. Brian’s long fingers were idly combing damp honey-hued locks.

 

Justin was totally, utterly, overwhelmingly happy. He smiled against the wet skin, and lifted his head. He didn’t have to share the feeling. He knew Brian felt the same.  Justin just wanted to thank his lover for the wonderful day and the unforgettable night. The brunet met his glance, drew his lips into the mouth, and then said without averting the gaze, “Say something and I’ll bite you.”

 

Justin laughed, kissed the cleavage on Brian’s chest, raining feathery kisses up the man’s neck, jaw, behind his ear. He sucked lightly on the sensitive spot right under the earlobe, and whispered, “I love you too, Brian.”

 

Brian didn’t answer, but the blond could swear his face twisted into smiles.

 

Justin put his head back on Brian’s chest, his arms and legs snaked around the taller frame. In the silence of Venetian winter night the boy was listening to his most precious gift, beating steadily in the chest of his partner.

 

 


End file.
